


there we are (standing strong)

by xxcaribbean



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Love, M/M, also it implies bearding, engagement circus, insecure!liam, it's also a little more liam centric i think, mentions (but not names) whatsherface, sorry if that ain't your cup of tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2462513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>because doubt is part of human nature, and sometimes liam wonders what the fuck they've gotten themselves into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there we are (standing strong)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to the lovely [lily](http://piningziam.tumblr.com/) who so graciously sent me her ziam headcanon late one night. it's now in fic form, and it's very much appreciated. :)

God, he’s such an idiot. He’s an idiot and a fool for ever giving those doubting thoughts the time of day, but Liam can’t help but breathe them in, let them puncture his heart, and fill it with anxiety.

And Zayn’s not around to fix it.

Liam should know better, though. He can’t really rely on Zayn for everything. That’s being too needy, too dependent on someone else.

Yet, sometimes Liam needs it. He needs Zayn to let him cuddle him, or breath his scent, or press warm kisses across his cheeks until he feels love swell up in his belly like a balloon. Liam just needs the peace and everything to lock into place again in order for it all to make sense.

It doesn’t make sense right now, and Liam feels cold.

That might have to do with the fact that he’s standing outside on the hotel balcony, looking down at all the flashing lights of the city around them. They’re too far up for fans to get a glimpse, if there are any down there. For once, they’re not screaming, and maybe that’s because it’s half passed midnight, and they’re waiting, waiting, waiting.

They’ll find Zayn soon, though. Of course, Liam won’t, can’t tell them that Zayn will make an appearance, pull up in a black SUV looking just as spectacular as the moment he was papped just five hours before.

They’ll catch him walking into the hotel, and he won’t be alone because it’s one of those days, one of those nights where it’s easier to walk a different walk, easier to smile, and keep secrets than it would be for them to tell the truth.

Liam won’t greet Zayn when he walks through the doors, too obvious, and too open. He’ll wait until he comes through their shared hotel room door, smelling like her, maybe with a stain of pink lipstick smearing his cheek where they’d had to give the cameras their undivided attention.

He won’t rub his thumb over the mark; Liam’s not going to clean it away because Zayn won’t let him. No, Zayn goes away for a little while longer and lets the spray of the water and the roughness of his hands scrub the lies down the drain until he can feel whole again, until Liam feels safe in their little world.

Liam blinks, and he waits, and the night air is cool against his skin, but he doesn’t move a muscle because waiting for Zayn would be a tragedy, and Liam will always wait for Zayn.

What he hopes, however, is that Zayn will always come back to Liam.

+

There’s never been a reason to doubt. Which is why Liam feels stupid for the second time. He’s not intimidated by the massive groups of fans that throw themselves at them, knows good and well the line that’s been established there.

So, it’s quite peculiar that he’d even wonder what life would be like if he lived in a world where he had gotten to love Zayn, but only briefly. Loved him, and then lost him because Liam’s used to the fans and used to their whispers, used to the way they praise each boy down the line of a meet and greet, cherish the few short minutes they have together, and how sometimes Liam’s the one left a little jolted afterwards when he’s not pulled into a hug, or purposely maneuvered to stand at the end of the line for their pictures.

Ramblings of past deceit, of false niceness play in Liam’s ear, and maybe that’s why he contributes to this need to keep a careful eye on Zayn as of late.

It’s easier to watch him, to read the telltale signs that maybe Zayn will soon slip from his grasps because it’s elementary for other people to do it, to treat Liam like that.

So why wouldn’t Zayn?

+

“They want me to go out again,” Zayn is saying, and Liam doesn’t want to hear it, but he knows better than to frown or put up a fight because for one, it’s part of the agreement. They can’t back out of this regardless of whether they want to or not, and two, to cause anymore grief to the situation puts guilt on Liam’s back because he can’t be that added burden for Zayn. He’s already carrying enough as it is, and him leaving knowing that Liam might be upset is the cause for all kinds of concern.

So, Liam doesn’t smile because he knows better, but he does take Zayn’s hand, and he kisses it, feels the warmth of it spread across his lips like it’s giving him life, and Liam knows he can make it through the night with just that. “I’ll be here,” he simply says because yeah, as much as Liam knows Zayn helps him through difficult shit, Liam would like to believe he offers Zayn the same in return.

“I know.” Zayn gives a half-hearted smile written in apologies because he knows. Oh does he know the petty need to keep curled under the sheets, to act like a petulant child and keep his distance from the world.

But Liam wanted Zayn, and Zayn wanted Liam, and coming and going like they do must be a part of their lives if they ever want to retain any semblance of truth, of them. Doing the unnecessary and the undesired fuels the fire that burns between them. There is no other way.

+

“There’s a ring on her finger, Zayn,” Liam’s saying, and he’s not crying. No, he’s not. He knew something was up; he just wasn’t aware of _what_ , and then this.

And he doesn’t blame his boyfriend because it wasn’t Zayn’s idea - “Management, babe, otherwise they’d keep us apart.” He sounds so tired, and there’s a lilt to his voice, like he’s choked up about the situation, too - that at twenty, this will follow him for the rest of his life. “M’not gonna have that happen. Not after I’ve waited for you.”

Which should put a stop to Liam and his upset feelings because Zayn, bless him, waited for Liam, waited for him to realize, to come to terms, to accept that Zayn, goddamnit, was all he needed. And now, here it is.

There’s a lump in his throat.

“For how long?”

Zayn shrugs, and now there’s a grimace painted across his mouth. “They didn’t say.”

Liam would probably snarl if he wasn’t already closing his eyes and trying to keep his frustrated tears at bay. “It’s a play-it-by-ear thing, isn’t it?”

There is no answer in response, but that’s one in and of itself. It makes the situation worse because now Liam doesn’t have something to look forward to, no exact date when the nightmare will end.

And selfish, Liam Payne. How is Zayn feeling?

“Baby,” Liam gathers Zayn into his arms, shoving down the bitterness in his heart that maybe he’d be the one with the ring around his finger, that maybe his name would sit perfect next to Zayn’s. “You’re so brave.”

Liam feels Zayn tuck his head into the crook of Liam’s neck, and it’s not long after that that he feels wetness stick to his skin. It slides down onto the collar of his shirt, and he only grips Zayn tighter, rubs circles into his back while Zayn cries and loses himself in Liam’s arms.

Liam had always thought Zayn was strong, and sometimes, as it turns out, that’s not always true.

He eventually leads them to the bed, where Liam lays them down until Zayn is resting on top of Liam, him cradled so carefully, so delicately near Liam that surely the other man can feel Liam’s heart beating in his chest, the steady rhythm something all too comforting.

“I’m sorry, Liam,” Zayn says after a time, his voice cracked and mangled against another onslaught of tears. “Wasn’t supposed to be like this. Never this.”

“I’d do anything for you,” Liam reassures, brushing his fingers through Zayn’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You know that.”

“S’ppose to be you, Liam,” comes the quiet voice of his boyfriend so soft and sleepy now that time has passed, now that they’re spread across what feels like a too big bed, where Liam keeps them both safe in these four walls because it’s obvious that no one else around them is willing to keep their best interest at heart. “Was always meant to be you.”

And only after Zayn’s fast asleep, is when Liam allows himself to shed those few tears he’d had earlier, the conviction in Zayn’s voice so prominent in his mind, never ending, and all too real for him to handle. How Zayn loves him so, how he’s got his fingers curled up tightly in the fabric of Liam’s shirt despite the fact that he’s fast asleep, only makes his heart ache even more.

Liam recognizes it now; Zayn might not until some time has passed, but there’s a bit of resentment that has come about all of this.

Not towards Zayn, though. Liam doesn’t think he could ever get that far with his feelings aside from love.

But resentment _and_ Zayn, Zayn and resentment.

He might feel it one of these days, that constant thrum of pressure, that he’s doing all of this for Liam, for the sake of their relationship.

Liam breathes in Zayn while he decides to join him for a nap because that is a thought for another day, a time in which Liam doesn’t want to face, but knows that one day it just might be here.

Someone can only be pushed so far, and while there are various parties to blame for their situation, Liam thinks the worse of it all is the fact that he wasn’t able to give Zayn something easier to deal with.

In a world that should be accepting and quite easy to navigate, Liam sometimes wonders how much easier it would’ve been had he not had any feelings. If he were a girl. If he simply wasn’t _Liam_.

If that were the case, then Liam wouldn’t be holding Zayn in his arms like he is and like he always wants to do.

But then again, Zayn wouldn’t be crying, either.

+

They do it. They make it work; they always do because it’s Liam and Zayn, and they’ve both experienced a harsher world when they were younger full of rough patches and bruises that sparked nothing but fear and shame.

Yet, there are questions about it all the time.

About the ring.

About the couple.

About her.

About Zayn.

It’s always the same thing, over and over and over, and Liam can’t quite silence it, can’t quite make sense of it sometimes, either, that strangers gobble up the lies because it’s romantic and perfect.

He snorts when he sees another headline because it’s hilarious. Romantic, his ass, which Zayn was pounding into just three hours prior.

It’s all hilarious, one big game of cat and mouse, hide and seek, fit the pieces of a long-ass puzzle together and cover up the cracks like they were broken fragments that in reality, didn’t go together. It makes sense, and it doesn’t, and the pressure is heavy, and Zayn takes the burden.

And Liam doesn’t add to it; he helps Zayn out of his clothes at night, spends time with him in the shower washing the day away before they fall into bed. It’s routine, and it’s theirs, and it’s something that isn’t a lie, that isn’t about anything but them.

Sometimes that feels better than okay.

Some nights are worse than others, however, when Zayn comes home, to Liam. He washes off; he takes Liam by his chin and kisses him harshly. He’ll ride Liam like he wants to forget, and he’ll chase his taste like he’s forgotten, and he’ll keep Liam inside for a few minutes afterwards like he’s trying to keep the feeling of Liam _there_ when they can’t physically be together in other situations.

They’re not always like this with their territory, but it does increase, and Liam’s pretty sure it’s Zayn’s way of apologizing.

Actions speak louder than words, do they not?

+

It’s a lazy day.

Well, actually, it’s not, but that’s what they call it because otherwise it’s just known as ‘one day they get to themselves to get in some sleep before they’re back at it again.’

They don’t complain, though. None of the boys do, but today’s quite significant because Liam’s in the hotel room with Zayn, and he’s busy watching something on tv, the volume super low while Zayn’s curled up in the corner of the couch with a book to read.

It makes Liam smile because Zayn never has time to read anymore, no time to rest, or breath, or to just be himself, really. And today was meant to be like that, was meant to be another outing for the lovely couple that didn’t involve Liam, and while Liam had certainly kissed Zayn goodbye this morning as he slipped out of bed so he could go fulfill his part of the job, it wasn’t even an hour later when Zayn came back, red in the face but an overly eagerly smile attached with it.

He’d kissed Liam senseless, and Liam knew better than to ask.

So, instead of staying in bed, or even exploring the hotel, or hanging with the other boys, Zayn had simply asked Liam, “Wanna just sit with you.”

And Liam took that for what it was, and they milled about, as they’re doing now, on their phones, and on the computer, maybe found a few funny tweets on twitter.

They’re existing in the same room, the same space, the same air, and it’s all okay because there’s no heaviness surrounding their little cozy bubble of Liam and Zayn, and it makes sense when Liam draws lazy circles across Zayn’s legs, thrown casually over Liam’s lap because of course it’d be terribly off-center for the both of them if they weren’t, at least, touching.

Liam caresses Zayn’s skin, and sometimes he lightly kicks him, shakes off his touch because “ _Ticklish_ ,” Zayn’s giving out, and he shakes his head when Liam gives him a crooked smile like he plans to take it further. But Zayn’s sinking even lower into the couch, and Liam’s not going to ruin this moment for him.

He pays attention to his program, maybe orders room service - a mixture of dishes because neither of them can ever decide on what they really want. It’s always best to play nit-picky, order several trays and take a bite of each thing like they’re starved animals. Most of it doesn’t go to waste; they’re mindful of that, but it’s good, and it’s fun, even if Zayn flicks spaghetti into Liam’s hair.

And then they’re back on cloud nine before that’s washed away because Liam accidentally changes it to the news, and there they are, mentioned again, and then it’s like lightening strikes, and she’s announced, and no longer is it them, but it’s three.

Honestly, Liam doesn’t think he’s seen Zayn move so fast

The remote is out of his hand, changing the station without so much as a word, face blank while he settles for something the both of them will like. And then Zayn’s buried back into the book like nothing happened, and Liam, well, he bites his lip, and the rest as they say is history.

But it’s not; it’s not because now there’s something hanging in the air, and there’s a thickness in Liam’s throat, and he’s stupid again, so stupid for thinking, for believing that all of this could last forever, that what they’ve built - just the two of them, will easily sway the people who don’t know.

Because they’re natural and real, firing burning alive and so brightly, and Liam wants that spark to shine so much. Instead, it’s blue and hazy and off to the side where Liam works to keep it alive because he only has so much time. Liam only has so much time with Zayn because when Zayn’s not around, and the lies become reality, then what’s going to happen to him when Zayn can’t stop himself from blaming Liam?

“I love you, Liam,” Zayn says, and it rattles his brain.

Liam’s pretty sure Zayn can’t read minds, but he’s looking up at his boyfriend from over his book, and Liam kinda goes a bit shy and ignores the television even though it’s still on and interesting. “Yeah?” he whispers, traces the wolf tattoo on Zayn’s leg because it’s there and a reminder, and it’s something so palpable in this moment, just like his feelings.

Surely his eyes flicker around the room, can’t quit keep a steady gaze on the way Zayn is looking at him with interest, like Liam’s answer is not what he expected. But it’s okay because Liam’s ridiculous.

The book doesn’t lower, but Zayn does arch his brow. “You know that, Liam,” he says it like he means it, and he does, but he says it like he knows that Liam knows. “You know I love you.”

There’s no question at the end, no openness for Liam to answer, but he does it anyway because Zayn’s still expecting that from him. So, he turns back to Zayn, and he continues tracing Zayn’s leg with his fingers, and he probably blushes because he can feel the heat in his cheeks when he answers, “Yeah,” like it’s meant to be believed. “Yeah, I know. Just being stupid.” The smile he gives feels cracked, little shards of a grimace involved, and he can’t help it when he drops his gaze.

He tries to believe he’s believable, but Liam’s always failed at lying.

He gives a squeeze to Zayn’s ankle, like their conversation is finished, like they can be done with this and move on, where Liam will go to bed tonight with Zayn’s arms around him, and everything will be okay. But Liam doesn’t get the final say in matters of the heart because Zayn’s sucking in a clear, sharp breath, and then there’s the thud of the book closing before there’s the whispered, “Liam.” It sounds desperate almost, like Zayn’s trying to grab his attention in a way that’s typically not normal, and it works. It works because Liam can’t not answer Zayn, can’t not look at him when he’s saying his name.

And Liam finds disbelief etched in Zayn’s irises, and maybe he panics for a split second because Liam didn’t say _I love you_ back, and he’s mucked it up, hasn’t he?

“Stop it,” Zayn’s saying, and this time he makes sure to kick Liam in the thigh as he pulls his legs back. It’s harsh enough to snap Liam out of his thoughts but not enough for it to hurt. “You listen- _hey_.” And he’s snapping at Liam with his fingers, and Liam may or may not freak out then, trying his best to shuffle off the couch, but Zayn’s not having it.

He’s not because he scrambles forward and says, “ _Leeyum_.” Zayn’s eyes look a little wild, and he cups Liam’s cheeks, and he straddles him, and of course Liam’s hands immediately come to rest on the other lad’s waist, holding Zayn like he's something to be treasured, like something that should never be broken.

But he looks broken in that split second as he’s searching Liam’s features for something Liam’s not quite sure of. He looks almost sad, too, near pained as he coos and leans forward to rest his forehead to Liam’s. “You know I love you, right.”

Again, it’s not a question, never that because maybe Zayn’s afraid of the answer.

And then he pulls back, still cupping Liam’s cheeks while brushing his thumbs across Liam’s warm skin. “Not her, not some other girl, not some wannabe groupie,” and his tongue never gets tied, never falters, but he does swallow and makes sure that Liam’s looking at him and never away because looking away is allowing for something to dispel the truth, and Liam can’t ignore this when it’s right in front of him.

Zayn’s right in front of him.

“You, Liam Payne,” Zayn continues, and the smile that blossoms across his face is like the sun on a rainy day, and it’s all Liam’s. His fingers dig into Zayn’s waist, and his teeth find his bottom lip, and he still doesn’t know what to say. Zayn beats him to it anyway. “You, and no one else.”

Liam swallows down the lump in his throat, that big ball of emotion that makes his heart stutter. “Yeah?” he eventually says, such a repeat of earlier, but it holds much more awe than it does doubt, and that’s a step in the right direction.

“Yeah,” Zayn echoes, although his tone is solid. And then he’s burying his face into the crook of Liam’s neck, resting his head on Liam’s shoulder.

Liam’s quick to wrap his arms around Zayn’s body like they’re connected together on purpose, brushing his fingers over the nape of Zayn’s neck, playing with the ends that curl just at the base. They stay like that for quite some time, Zayn’s book and the television both forgotten, until Liam carries Zayn to bed while he clings to him like a koala.

That night, neither of them let go because while they’re two people existing together, sometimes they just need to feel like one.

+

There’s never been doubt in Liam’s mind when it comes to the fact that Zayn can be bold. For as reserved as he is in front of so many people, when he’s standing next to Liam, it’s like a light switch has been flicked, and his true colors are shown.

They’re subtle, they are, but Zayn’s careful when he slides his arm around Liam’s waist during interviews, sometimes resting his chin on Liam’s shoulder while he talks to someone with a microphone in hand.

Or Zayn will seek out Liam on stage and nod at him once before he’s off singing his own line.

Or Zayn will stand in front of so many people at an awards ceremony, televised to millions of viewers and tell Liam that he loves him under his breath, without the microphone to catch his words.

And that’s okay because Liam’s not expecting that much, but it’s the tender brushes of their skin, mostly alongside Liam's feather tattoo, and it’s the way Zayn allows him to get too close when they’ve had previous warnings about keeping their distance. They push their boundaries, and Zayn starts it all while Liam follows, quite simple and easy, and there might be questions of another relationship, one that doesn’t involve Liam.

Yet, it’s much easier to handle, much easier to live when Zayn’s smirking and staring at Liam with love-filled eyes while he says, “Yes, I’m in love.”

Because it might not be a huge burst of fireworks that people can see, but it’s subtle explosions that catch the other boys off guard with how daring, how risky they’re being. They know their parts and their lines, and sometimes for punishment, Zayn’s sent out on duty again.

But Liam, well, he can’t say his entire self-doubt is completely cured, but nothing beats the way Zayn likes to whisper, “You know I love you,” right into Liam’s ear whenever he’s feeling most out of place.

It's not an immediate solution to their problem, but then again, it's a start.


End file.
